


Like Lightning and Thunder

by Muccamukk, ThrillingDetectiveTales



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e02 Day of Days, Fanart, Fanfiction, Hugs, Illustrations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/pseuds/Muccamukk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/pseuds/ThrillingDetectiveTales
Summary: On the day of days, Johnny searches for Bull.
Relationships: Johnny Martin/Bull Randleman
Comments: 15
Kudos: 33
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	Like Lightning and Thunder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arwen88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwen88/gifts).



> Fic by Muccamukk. Beta reading and art by ThrillingDetectiveTales.
> 
> Title from "Knife in the Window," a traditional folk song.

They were supposed to be in the same plane. In all the practice jumps, Johnny had been at one end of the stick next to the jump master, and Bull had been at the other as the push man, there to make sure no one hesitated at the door. Even on the night jumps, they'd never landed more than a few hundred yards from each other, in line of sight usually. As soon as Bull's boots hit the ground, he and Johnny would lock eyes for a moment, then go on with the work of looking after the boys.

But when the big jump came, all the sticks got reorganised at the last minute, and Bull had ended up in with Lieutenant Winters' stick, and Johnny in with Lieutenant Welsh as usual. It wouldn't have mattered, in the end. Even if they had been in together, Johnny lost half his stick on landing, and didn't find them again until daylight, if at all.

At dawn, they found part of a wrecked C-47, but the number had burned off the side, and Johnny couldn't tell who had been in it.

Bull was fine, Johnny told himself. It was impossible for him to be anything other than fine, so all Johnny had to do was keep himself in one piece long enough to find the stupid hick, and then chew him out for missing the drop zone and getting lost.

Lieutenant Welsh's little group kept picking up new members until they finally found Regiment's HQ company. There, they didn't get five minutes to rest before Colonel Sink started ordering them to take this or that objective, and the act of staying alive long enough to find each other turned into real fighting.

It was almost enough to keep Johnny from asking every trooper he saw if he'd heard who'd made it. They all asked each other, each exchange swelling the list of names of every man he talked to, and then passing it on to the next man, and the next. Each list came with some new loss to go with the relief—griefs that Johnny planned to deal with later. If he stayed alive long enough to grieve.

Lieutenant Winters had made it, which meant Bull's plane had, but they hadn't found anyone else from Winters' stick yet, either.

"It's fine. He's fine," Johnny said aloud, and Luz looked like he was about to say something, so Johnny glared at him until Luz closed his mouth and walked away.

If there was one thing in the world that Johnny was never, ever going to say, it was that he was glad for the day before, when the waves of tension and relief of their delayed jump had driven him into Bull's arms again. If Johnny could admit that was the last time they were to see each other, he could admit that he didn't regret what they'd done. If Bull was gone, at least Johnny could say that they'd said everything that needed saying between them, and more.

But that would mean Bull was gone, and Johnny wasn't going to think about that.

D-Day ended With Johnny holed up in some Frog town, and still no Bull. Bill Guarnere was there though, and he, at least, had alcohol.

The next day, they were supposed to take back another little Frog town—somewhere so small that it wouldn't even be called a town in Ohio, and only important because it was on the road to a bigger town that had something to do with getting the GIs off the beaches.

They were lying in a ditch just before dawn of D-day plus one, rain pissing down again, staring at the stone farmhouses and wondering which of them was going to have a Kraut MG in the attic, when someone big dropped down beside Johnny.

"Flash," a familiar voice said.

"Where the fuck you been?" Johnny demanded without turning. He didn't have to look to know that it was Bull, or that Bull shrugged an answer. He wasn't ready to turn because he knew what he felt would be all over his face, and he couldn't do that right now. Kick off was in five minutes.

"Busy, I guess," Bull answered, unbothered by Johnny's tone. He was chewing on the end of one of his damn cigars. Johnny wanted to smack it out of his mouth and kiss him. "Helped take that town we were in last night, but couldn't find you."

"No one I asked knew where you was, neither," Johnny complained. "Don't matter now, though."

"Guess not," Bull agreed, but he sounded like he thought it did matter. "It's good to see you, Johnny."

The rain was still pissing down, and Johnny was still soaked to the skin and shivering, but having Bull's shoulder pressed against his as they lay there warmed Johnny through to his bones.

"Up and at 'em, boys," Welsh drawled, and they went.

After, the town secured and the Germans pushed back another mile, Regiment put Second Battalion on guard duty while they scratched their heads about what to do next.

Johnny took the chance to scarf down some k-rations and check his weapon. It was coming on dusk, and Johnny was considering if he could sleep leaning against the wall where he was, or if he should try to find somewhere marginally drier inside a house. Did being dry outweigh the risk of the house they'd just thrown half a dozen grenades into collapsing on top of him? For that matter, could he ever be dry again?

"Wanna go for a walk?"

Johnny looked up to see Bull standing over him, his hand extended. He ignored the hand, tried to stand on his own, wobbled, and ended up taking Bull's help anyway. "We going anywhere particular?"

Bull shrugged and gestured with a tilt of his head: away from the line. They walked until they were clear of the slit trenches, clear of the rear guard, and all the little nests of resting troopers. Finally they came to one of the fields the Germans had flooded, and couldn't go any further.

They made a fine target, standing next to the water like that, but they were far enough away from the line that Johnny risked taking his helmet off and unslinging his rifle. He leaned them both against a tree and stretched. For a moment he felt free of all the burdens of the world. He and Bull could be standing looking out over a lake back in England, or at home, even. Kentucky, where they'd been on maneuvers the year before, hadn't looked so different.

"What a waste," Bull said with a sigh, and it took Johnny until Bull added, "This was good land," to work out he probably meant the field, not everything else that had happened in the last two days.

"There you are, going on about farming again," Johnny grumbled. He looked sideways at Bull, gauging his reaction, then did a double take. "You got blood on your face."

"Do I?" Bull dabbed at the entirely wrong part of his face with his sleeve, missing the splatter of red on his temple. Johnny hadn't seen it until Bull had taken his helmet off.

"Yeah, hold still." Johnny got a hold of Bull's webbing to enforce the order. His sleeve was too grubby to think of touching Bull's face, and Johnny had to fish around for a bit to find a pocket square. He touched carefully at the blood, and when Bull didn't flinch away, wiped until the skin came clean. Johnny poked through Bull's hairline, but couldn't find any sign of a wound. "Guess it ain't yours."

Bull shook his head, but not hard enough to dislodge Johnny's fingers from his temple. They were standing chest to chest now, so close that when Bull wrapped his arms around Johnny's shoulders, it felt like the most natural thing in the world for Johnny to lean forward and rest his head on Bull's shoulder. His jacket was damp, like everything else they owned, and smelled awful, same, but some of the warmth of Bull's skin leaked through. Johnny thought that of all the places he might find to sleep that night, right where he was sounded like the best one.

"No," Bull said almost too soft to hear, "It ain't my blood. I ain't been wounded, yet."

"Thank God," Johnny muttered. He'd never really thought of himself as churchy, but he meant that with all his heart. "Jesus, Bull, I've been worried sick, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. Me too." Bull didn't say anything else, but scratched his fingers though Johnny's hair like he was petting a kitten. "I sure was glad to see you this morning."

Johnny nodded, sure that if he said anything, he'd choke up and sob like a baby. Bull kept scratching his fingers through Johnny's hair, and Johnny kept clutching Bull's jacket.

Eventually, they broke away from the embrace, but couldn't seem to separate all the way back to being two people again. Bull kept his arm over Johnny's shoulders, and Johnny held onto Bull's hands like he was drowning. The sun was sinking behind the hedgerow across the field, but neither of them watched it. They kept their eyes fixed on each other's faces, watching as the dusk softened away the lines of grief and fatigue until there was nothing there but the open affection that seemed to fill Johnny's entire chest.

Bull was smiling down at Johnny like he knew a secret, but Johnny couldn't even smile back. His heart hurt with the fierceness of what he felt, and all he could do was stare into Bull's blue eyes and be amazed that they were both here on God's green earth, and unharmed for the most part, and together.

"We oughta head back," Bull said, and Johnny nodded, but neither of them moved for a long time.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Like Lightning and Thunder](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282553) by [Podfics by Isabelle (isabellerecs)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabellerecs/pseuds/Podfics%20by%20Isabelle)




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